Moonless strawberry king over a killing horse
by MetaLucario
Summary: unrelated one-shots depicting how events would occur had the hollow not been the true zangetsu, and also more hollow like in nature. The horse will kill, the king will lose his throne, and the sky will cease to shine on a moonless night when the sky is pierced with ebony fangs. Blue tongue rolls about as cackling bursts through ivory lips. and vermilion bangs will hide sorrows
1. Encroaching Danger

A/N:I got the Idea after thinking about how many time the hollow showed hints of his true nature as a zanpakuto, and decided to explore a possible AU where he was simply a hollow, and nothing more. Its gonna be a series of one-shots about different possibilities, and alternate endings that may not be very long, but whatever.

Leave ideas in the comments if you want to see a particular battle or scene, and tell me what pairings to include in it, kudasai!

I own nothing, and enjoy.

Urahara was an idiot. Ichigo was going to kill that damned smug shopkeeper, and not even be alive to regret it. He could feel the chains consume themselves. The encroachment was going to finish, he would become a hollow. He could hear voices calling out to him. He paid them little mind until he heard one he recognized. It was calling him. That voice that used to talk to him after his mother died. It always kept him company when someone was idiotic enough to mock him for his hair, told him where to punch, what bones to break, told him to throw out remorse and just follow his instinct. That's exactly what he did now as he put all his focus on its voice and followed it somewhere.

"Shiro? Where are we?" He looked around at the sideways clouds and the rows of dull, blue-gray towers, before settling his eyes on the being in front of him. It looked like him, but bleached pure white with unnatural eyes that glimmered a bright golden yellow like molten brass that swam in pure obsidian darkness. Shiro reached forward his pale hand, and gently stroked the boys cheek.

"We're inside yer soul, aibou. Tha's generally where people go when their dyin', er in yer case jus' sheddin' off skin."

"What do you mean by that?" He said as he calmly noted why the voice had always gone by Shiro.

"Feel my reiatsu Ichi. Wha' am I ta ya?" He questioned with a wide, feral smirk. The buy focused his mind.

"Your a hollow. That means-" He was cut off by the other slipping his soft white hand stroking his mouth gently, then sliding the opposite arm around to embrace the shivering teen. "Shi-"

"Not jus' tha' aibou, I'm also par' a ya. An' I don' really wanna let ya become a shinigami, ya understand." He purred, practically cooing into the boys ear.

"If I become a hollow Urahara will-" Ichigo was panicking.

"He won' do anythin', 'cept maybe die. Don' worry, 'e cant hurt me, an' I'll be damned if I let 'im even so much as touch ya. I can keep ya locked up safe in here until we escape, ok?"

"But what about Rukia?"

"She's likely gonna be dead before we can even ge' ta seireitei, so calm yer horses king."

"Nice choice of words."

"Shut it." The hollow leaned forward and planted a firm kiss right on Ichigo's surprised lips, before placing his hand on the teen's chest. "Too late ta go back, aibou. Yer a hollow now." He removed his hand, revealing the empty hole where Ichigo;'s heart had been, before taking over their body to kill himself a shopkeeper.

Ichigo sat there calmly waiting, no longer worried about saving Rukia. His heart gone, he had no reason to care. He merely trusted Shiro to take care of everything going on outside, and was busy wondering what the other being was doing to old geta-boshi. Busy enough not to notice the thirty-something year old man approach. He looked up upon her the chains rattling however.

"I was too late…" was all the man said before walking away with a sad look. It paused, then kept walking. Ichigo didn't bother calling out, he knew it was his shinigami powers- yet, he didn't care. He only want Shiro to come back and tell him what they were supposed to do now, after all Ichigo wasn't used to being a hollow. But Shiro was, so he'd wait.


	2. Instinct and Reprecussions

A/N: these short, drabble-like one-shots are kinda fun to right. I'm already working on chapter two…

No tienes nada, OK? and I'm not putting anymore disclaimers after this.

Instinct. That's all it was doing now, talking about instinct. Ichigo could feel it radiating off his inner hollow like poisonous gases from an unlit stove. He decided to follow its advice and use some of that strange compulsion to kill, and focused on allowing a little bit to seep in. The hollow smirked at him, that titanic smirk that split its face like a razor, sharp teeth glinting in its strange excitement. Ichigo felt the odd sensation of that small dose of instinct, and something seemed off when he realized how stunningly right it felt.

He took more

.

And more.

He kept sinking deeper, and before he knew it, the hollow's smirk was only inches from his ear. He gasped, feeling a foreign emotion take over him, something dark and sadistic. The hollow lifted his chin with a single thumb.

"Do ya like tha', aibou?" It whispered demandingly. Its voice was only a catalyst to the slowly spreading black in the teens sclera.

Ichigo nodded, and the hollow gave him a little pat on the head. It ran its icy, slender fingers through the teens fiery vermillion tufts.

"Mine." Was all it said, as it shot more instinct through the already disoriented substitute shinigami. Ichigo shuddered and convulsed, writhing now as he realized just what he'd done by following the instincts. Those instincts were his hollow. And now he'd just thrown out his last chance of standing against this white darkness before him. He could feel the instincts growing stronger within and without him, the urge to kill and mangle overriding all else that once crossed his mind. He held on to one thought as long as he could.

_Protect._

_Must Protect._

_I am he who protects, damnit! If I can't protect myself from my own inner darkness, then what good am I?_

"None, Ichi. Yer of no use ta anyone, except_ me_.'' He pulsed more instinct into the strawberry and watch the teen slowly relax, a smirk beginning to replace his typical scowl. "Tell me, Ichigo, who is tha king now?"

"You."


	3. Proctector or Strawberry?

A/N: newest chapter, what else to say?

Pain.  
>That was all he could feel; numbness and pure undulating agony that racked his whole being in spasms of the desperate need to escape this pain.<br>The hole in his chest sat gaping, empty.  
>He was dying. And he couldn't do anything to stop it, not even his unstoppable resolve; his desire to protect, to wipe Inoue's desperate tears and tell her everything would be alright. He closed his eyes, a warning echoing across his mind.<br>"...Don't die before I come back..."  
>Looks like he'd even failed his inner hollow, but that didn't mean much. Not until...<br>"Pathetic. At leas' I already made my return, so don' worry king. I'll save ya, ya sorry excuse for an pathetic ass."  
>"Buzz off hollow-"<br>"Is that any way ta speak ta tha guy who's rescuin' her sorry hide, aibou?"  
>"Shaddup, we aren't partners... You only want my body." Ichigo countered, quite distressed by the return of his inner menace.<br>"Nah, I wan' ya with it, Ichi. Now come on ya strawberry loser, we gotta princess ta save".

"Did I say somethin'?"

"Wha's wrong aibou? That blue haired kittycat get yer tongue?"  
>"Was that an innuendo?"<br>"Maybe, maybe not. It doesn' really matter, if 'e really did I'd be jealous. I would've torn 'is corpse ta shreds fer it, cause nobody touches my lil strawberey king cept fee me an, the princess, an' Stick up his ass quincy nerd."  
>"Stop callin me a strawberry."<br>"But ya are one."  
>"He. Who. Protects. Dammit it doesn't mean strawberry!"<br>"Wha'ever ya say, yer strawberriness."  
>"... If I'm a strawberry then your a white empty strawberry,"<br>"Makin' fun o' my race king? Ya know the me bein'part o' ya makes ya a hollowed out strawberry since I'm her innermost self, an like 90 percent o'her power."  
>"Shut the hell up and get it over with."<br>"Ya don' mind if I kill Ishida as well, do ya? He's in my way."  
>"The hell? No you can't he's my friend."<br>"Too late. I'm gonna do it."  
>"Fuc-"<br>"Save tha' fer later, Kay kingy? We can do tha' all ya wan' later."  
>"Why you-"<br>"Dammit Ulquiorra! Get out o' tha way ya damn bat!"  
>"Ulquiorra saved Uryu from you? He officially has my respect."<br>"Shut yer face king."  
>"Make me."<br>Ichigo didn't have time to regret saying it before the ivory hollow pressed his freezing cold lips to Ichigo's.

"I win."  
>"What the hell ever hollow."<p>

A/N: comedy for once... ... ...


	4. Fall of the Vizard

A/N: and sitting here at my computer eating some "healthier" knock off-of honey bunches of oats, when suddenly… BAM! plot bunny to the face. Don't ask why, it just did…

Shinji was worried. It had been a few weeks since he felt Ichigo's reiatsu infuse slightly with that of a hollow, then the subconscious release of massive spirit pressure shut off like a faucet. Not like Ichigo died, but like he had suddenly gotten up and learned to control the untameable force of his powers. Even the leader of the vizard knew the strawberry enough to understand that that wasn't normal, let alone possible. So he headed to Kurosaki's house with Mashiro and Kensei. He concealed his reiatsu in case any shinigami were about, and knocked on the door. After a few anxious minutes, a young girl with pale brunette hair opened the door, and Shinji asked if Ichigo was in. This prompted the child to run off with a tear streaked face, and a darker haired girl to look out at him.

"Ichi-nii is off somewhere, didn't say where he was going, but he's been gone for a few weeks." At this Shinji told her that he thought he knew where Ichigo might be, which caused the girl to smile half-heartedly. "I'm Karin, by the way."

"Hirako Shinji, nice to meet you. Ichigo never mentioned that he had such lovely sisters." he then left, his unnaturally straight teeth revealed in a weak attempt at a grin, before Karin could kick her favorite soccer ball at his head. Shinji turned into his head to check his instincts. or more appropriately, his inner-hollow's instincts.

"_Yeah, I feel like you're right Shin, they are most definitely there."_ Came his own voice echoed back at him, but lower and distorted. In his minds eye he saw a reflection of himself with smooth black hair, and indifferent navy eyes.

"Mashiro, open a garganta." The blonde called to his emerald-haired friend. Mashiro responded with a nod, and stared forward in determination. She made a motion as though she was slicing the sky open with her bare hand, and the very fabric of space distorted to reveal a gaping tear. The trio went on in silence. Shinji went on ahead, forming the stable azure reishi bridge with his own reiatsu. Once they arrived in the endless white sands and crystal trees of hueco mundo, Shinji cat out his senses, searching for Ichigo's odd reiraku. He found plenty of strips that were combinations of hollow and shinigami, but the abundance of black in the ribbons was more than enough to show that they were espada, not vizard. He cast out more reiatsu, and finally hit it. It was a deep burgundy with a strand of quincy blue, and a black velvet-like string wrapped around it. "I found ya strawberry." Shinji took off with a blast of shunpo, running through the indigo skies of the world of hollows.

Ichigo woke to sand tickling his nose, and something _very_ heavy sitting on his chest. Cold hands stroked his cheeks, and the weight shifted. Frigid breath ghosted over his ear, accompanied by the chilling dual toned voice that he knew so well.

"Mornin' king." Warm mocha eyes opened to glare at harsh, gleaming yellow. He closed his eyes slowly.

"Shiro?"

"hmm?"

"get off!"

"Geez king. I ain't that heavy, quit complainin'." But even as he said it he slid off of the irritated teens chest. Ichigo then proceeded to panic.

"How the hell did we get here?" Came the vermillion haired hybrid's panicked call

"Well, when ya nearly go' yerself killed by tha' Grimmjow bastard, I didn' know wha' ta do. Ya jus' passed ou', so I manifested an' picked ya up, then jus' kinda concealed yer reiatsu from anythin' with killin' inten' and fled ta hueco mundo with yer unconscious body. I've been absorbin' the reishi in tha air, n' eatin' other hollows ta supply myself with enough power ta both heal ya, n' stay manifes'ed." The cruelly twisted smirk that curled along pale lips grew ever wider, as the overly cocky male spoke in a deliberately slow, condescending drawl just to annoy his brightly colored counterpart.

"Let me guess, 'it'd be complicated for you if I died', right?" Came Ichigo's slightly pissed response as he pointedly ignored the offensive mocking offered by his pale other-half.

"Course it would, I'd be awfully bored withou' ya here ta annoy tha hell outta." It stuck out its blue tongue in a crude gesture, before cackling with delight as tanned lips deepened their natural scowl. "Life fer a hollow isn' as much fun withou' a chronically depressed strawberry who's controlled by his unbearably massive hero complex, righ' aibou?" The teen merely scowled at the manic source of his paranoia.

"Can you get me back home now, Shiro?" Came the calmly angered plea. Brown eyes locked onto stark white lips, awaiting whatever response came from them.

"Ya really wanna go back? Ya jus' barely woke up aibou, come on, I c'n show ya aroun' an' everythin'." Eerie black sclera glinted mockingly.

"Please, I just want to see Orihime and Chad and the others." Ichigo was rapidly developing a headache. Thin, bone-like white fingers rested on his forehead, the lack of heat from the freezing digits was oddly soothing,

"I can't, cause Orhime's here an' so is tha' vizard guy that' tried ta recrui' ya. Besides, ya need ta res' sa'more, yer exhausted Ichi." Those frozen fingers began to massage his abused head. The other hand snaked up his back, and slowly pulled him forward until fluffy orange spikes were resting flat against a milky-white shihakusho, and Ichigo's tan head rested on Shiro's lap. Cold hands messed with his soft fluff, and even colder lips leaned down to claim his own none too gently. Memories flashed through his head of the past few weeks; Shinji pushed up against the railing outside the school speaking in a doomsday-ish tone about what happened when a vizard didn't learn how to control the hollow that dwelt within the deep recesses of their soul, he'd said "all those friends, your family, your whole future will be destroyed if it gets to you…". He remembered the conversation later that week with Shiro about the same thing. Those words echoed through his head "I'm goin' ta keep growni' closer ta ya even faster now, no longer day by day. Look, I'm even closer th'n I was a momen' ago. I'm gonna keep gettin' closer an' closer until I swallow ya up, then there'll be nothin' lef' of ya…"

A shudder racked Ichigo's body. He could feel Shinji's reiatsu nearing, but not as strongly as he felt Shiro's immense reiatsu pouring over him in waves. He felt like those word were coming true, and that he'd be swallowed by the white hollow's spiritual pressure alone. Yet simultaneously he felt like the heated kisses along his jawline were going to do that first. They felt amazing on a unhealthy level, and he soon enough found himself returning them with a passionate fervor that had him confused beyond measure. Before he knew what was happening, he was pinned down on the white sands, and Shiro was sitting on him again, this time around straddling his hips and hovering over his lips.

"Ya liked tha', didn' ya aibou? Th'n I guess I should spoil ya, eh king, ya'd seriously enjoy tha', wouldn' ya?" a teal tongue slowly teased his l

ips gently enough to leave him craving more. Ichigo sat up slightly to follow the movements back to the mouth they came from, but Shiro pushed him back down and taunted him some more before beginning to undo Ichigo's shihakusho. They exchanged a few more kisses. Shiro slowly poured his reishi into his partner's body, and at that precise moment, Shinji appeared. He drew his sword befroe either could explain, already understanding what was occurring. Ichigo called out to him in shock before all three vizard present were decapitated.

"You'll never escape me now." Was all he heard from skeletal lips that curled into a smirk of pure victorious elation, as he faded to unconciousness.


	5. Checkmate, I win king

A/N: don't ask…

_Why is ossan attacking me? I can't… I can't make sense of it… _Ichigo held up his massive butcher-knife of a shikai to block the barrage of swings, hacks, and blows aimed toward him by one he trusted. He couldn't keep up. He felt an old familiar entity swell up within him, and began to panic.

"_Shh, cool it aibou… I'm jus' tryin' ta protec' ya, le' it happen, alright?" _He felt hands wrap and entwine with his, guiding his movements. His slight blanked and fogged, and dark, cruel, murderous instinct flooded through his body- accompanied by bone-chiling cackles that made his spine crawl with fright. He could feel the mask form across his face. He could feel the cold with reishi as it gathered along his angular cheekbones, and crawled over, inching toward his nose. His consciousness faded from his body, and he looked around a the familiar skyscrapers and sideways clouds. He sat and waited. The person he waited for was nowhere to be seen, and Ichigo grew confused. Before long, he felt his body fully hollowfy, and simply pushed outward, forcing his hand to tear the mask off of his face. Then he sat some more. Muramasa arrived inside the skewed innerworld, much to the strawberry's confusion, and repeatedly asked to see someone. The teen had a good idea whom, but refused to answer the brunette zanpakuto. Before he understood what was happening, he saw an orange and black inverted version of the towers around him, and white, skeletal hands erupted from his chest. He could feel something being extracted directly from him, amidst the tortuous agony that racked his entire frame. It didn't end when the pain was finally gone, and his vision had cleared. He looked up and saw white, a color he'd begun to dread seeing. A sharp dual tone echoed out.

"Yo, ya rang?" Ichigo couldn't help but zone out in fear, but his eard tuned back in upon hearing, "Me? I'm his true form. I guess ya coul' say I'm his instinc'." He glared, but calmed slightly when he noticed that the hollow had taken up a slightly defensive stance, and was making certain to stay in the exact middle of the other two present. The cursed thing was protecting him, weird as it seemed. Until, that is, a white-clawed hand reached out and released the fiends innermost instinct. He knew it wouldn't be long before an intense fight broke out; but when it did, his shock only doubled. The inverted white blade was swung continuously at the stoic intruder, the fight slowly grew more serious, and naturally the inverted strawberry decided to mock his opponent, as per usual. Ichigo noticed the reflected tentacles on the tower above the duo, and without thinking he severed them. This earned him a scowl that slowly split into a pointed grin. "Why are you protecting me?"

Ichigo gave some bullshit answer of the top of his head, rewarding him with a scoff and a sarcastic jibe from his "partner". The rest just soared past him, his mind incapable of coherent thought. He turned around to feel a hand on his shoulder.

"Thanks, king. I mean it. Ya c'n be cool sometimes, bu' remember tha' I'm still gonna take over one day, an' ya will be tha horse." His lips cracked into a wide smirk. "Le's go get em', eh aibou?"

"We need ossan back."

"Does kingy miss his bishop?"

"Are you referencing chess?"

"Ya shoulda figured tha' I'd never resor' ta bein' an actual horse," he curled his fingers around the teen's tanned chin, "An' fer tha record, we're on opposin' side o' the board, to differen' rules. If I check ya, king, yer mine. I play for keeps, an' if ya slip up I'll pull ya ta my side o' the board an' use ya as I wish." A sadistic gleam lit the his eyes.

"Then I will keep my guard up." warm lips formed an almost smile, and the two locked eyes.

"Good luck with tha', aibou. Yer already mine-" ivory fingers lifted brown eyes to gaze into their warm depth, and a black nailed finger lighted scratched his cheek.

Later that day, a certain vermillion strawberry lay on his bed moping- like he always did. Well, technically, it was a futon in the 11th squad barracks- Kenpachi was planning on a fight in the morning as payment, and Ichigo planned on getting away before that crazy lunatic slaughtered him. Shiro didn't quite light that plan, and kept on about it.

"_C'mon king, I coul' slaughter him easily." _Was constantly whispered in the teens ear, keeping him awake.

_Fine, just shut it and let me sleep for a while._


	6. formed masks and dances in the carnage

A/N: gonna mass type these one shots. Sorry if my tablet's autocorrect messes something up.

I thought of this one randomly, I was thinking about how Shinji would've reacted to Ichigo not becoming a vizard... Starting at Yami and Ulqui going to karakura...

"_Switch with me, I'll kick both their asses." _That dual toned mocking caressed the teen's mind, in a sick imitation of caring.

"No. No I won't let you control me again! I'm your-" before he could finish, fifty pounds of fist pummeled his back. Ichigo could feel the large mass beating him, feel the vertebrae in his spine cracking with the pressure, feel the agony as his face was pounded yet again, but he couldn't move his body an inch. That haunting voice echoed through his mind the whole time.

_"You're my what, Ichi? Were ya gonna say king? I'll show ya who's really in control if ya truly believe that."_

"What do you-"

"_Come to me, Ichigo." _Before the teen knew what was happening, he felt himself whisked into the confusion of his inner world. The sideways skyscrapers were crashing down around him, and a pale hand held him up by the back of his tanned neck, letting his feet dangle just above the edge of a crumbling tower. The hand tightened it's grip. "_There is no denyin' it, 'king', your fallin'. An when ya hit tha ground- I'll stomp on ya and break ya till all tha's lef' is me." _

"Ichi-nii, are you alright?" Ichigo woke with a start to find Yuzu staring at him with wide eyes. No he wasn't alright, but he smiled at her reassuringly and ran his fingers through her short hair.

"If ya don' learn ta control yer hollow, all yer friends, yer family, all of that will be destroyed." Ichigo pinned Shinji with even more pressure, the sudden urge to bash the blonde's head into the wall was overwhelming.

"_C'mon Ichigo, ya know tha' ya wan' ta, so jus' do it. Hur' him, maimed him, injure him, rip him apar' while laughin"._ Ichigo swore he could feel some invisible hand slide up to his shoulder, that he could feel something breathing on his ear. He knew it was the hollow. Yet, neither could he deny that it was right. He wanted to hurt Hirako. He truly yearned to. But he knew it wasn't really him wanting that, or he thought so. He figured it was something his hollow was doing to control him. To his disappointment, it was obviously working. He couldn't help it. His mind strayed through many possible senarios, thoughts, fantasies- all of which ended with Hirako's blood painting the floor, and some unnamable appendages strewn out along the hall, like chunks of flesh in a gore soup with blood for broth. His heart sped up, racing in excitement. He started to punch him. "_Tear him ta shreds, Ichi. Now." _

He gasped as he realized what he'd been thinking. He pulled back his blood soaked fist, to discover that he had given the strange blonde a bloody nose, and a fat lip- nothing more. He shunpo'ed away as fast as his legs would carry him.

"Come on Ichigo! Fight it!" He heard Rukia call out. He could hear the desperation she so carefully tried to hide, but he couldn't feel anything. What worth was he? He couldn't protect Inoue, he'd lose control and kill everyone he loved if he didn't do something soon, and he was too weak to even think about fighting. The massive blue-ish hollow started to attack him, and as he lifted his zanpkutou to counter, his vision blacked.

Standing directly across was the white blurb of his hollow staring at him. It smirked at him and began its normal taunting.

"_I've grown so much closer ta ya now, Ichigo. I'm gonna swallow ya up!" _The hollow dispersed into shreds of colorless reishi, that all at once streamed forward and assaulted his face. He could feel a mask form around his features, and struggle though he may, it slowly coated his entire face with its cold, ominous presence. "_I'll tear ya ta bits." _He could feel it, around him, inside him. It was like a stirring blizzard, a torrential hurricane of the sadistic, instinctual desire to kill and slaughter. hands ran along his whole frame as he shook and fingers violated every inch of him, a cerulean tongue caressed his earlobe, warm breath and taunting ghosting along after it. Promises of bloodshed, and destruction wormed into his mind. Everything felt numb and cold and dead. Ichigo felt like there was a deep, penetrating emptiness overtaking everything, his heart was so devoid of anything that he could actually feel the hole. And suddenly, he stopped caring.

He could see his hand pierce through pale skin, see deep azure eyes lose their shine. He could see the crimson spilling around Rukia's lithe form, her thin back arched in agony as her internal organ's plopped and spewed and oozed from inside of her. And he laughed. He laughed and laughed for hours, before realizing what he'd just done. And when he tried to end his life to prevent further damage, the mask tightened, and that voice echoed in his mind.

"_They don' matter Ichi. Stay here, an' give yerself ta me, an only me. I'll make sure ta keep an eye on ya, don' try ta off yerself fer realising tha' yer jus' like me, embrace it an' give me the reins. I'll make sure there's plenty of carnage ta spare fer us both."_


	7. Kings and Princesses

A/N:I just really like this idea. I'm not doing the accent anymore, it's getting annoying. Mostly cause I text with it too…

her voice was grating on his nerves. He couldn't describe how much he regretted saving that annoying bitch from execution. He should have simply let the freaking soul society do what they wanted. He wasn't sure why he thought that. He figured that it had something to do with that colorless monster dwelling within his soul, the one that called out to him, taunting day and night, whispering, goading, insulting and _praising _him as it pleased. It's very words were molding him to its twisted will. And it was all her fault. Her's and Urahara's. Damn them both to hell and unrelenting torture, he wished they'd both just fucking leave. Or die. He liked that option. It barely registered as unusual to him, his thoughts had been growing steadily darker lately.

He understood she thought this was what he needed. He knew her intentions were good. He just couldn't help the growing hatred and nagging, burning desire to silence her forever. Slit her throat and watch the glimmering crimson spew from her pale flesh, as the hopelessness and fear, and pure shock over took the light in her eyes and then faded as her body disintegrated to miniscule ashes of reishi. He pictured the way it would flow through the light breeze and… Damnit! he needed to stop letting these thoughts interrupt him. He could hear that laugh echo in the back of his agonized head, a smooth voice urging him to continue that disturbingly pleasing fantasy. Part of him longed, yearned for it. Part of him said to just let go, that he couldn't escape **it**. Hirako even said so, sort of in an off-handed way. The only way to come out on top was to join the vizard, but both his own resolve, and his hollow's incessant demand that he avoid them prevented any kind of desire to accept their help. He couldn't help it. Not really. The hollow knew everything about him. His desires. his fears. His motivations. His cares. His agonizing depression. His absolute _need_ to impress everyone, protect everyone, make everyone happy. **It** knew how to use this to its advantage. **It** could twist him and bend him and turn him. This way, that way. **It** could confuse him, play him like a game. Lift him up on a gilded throne and spoil him, or cast him into a pit of pure despair. He isolated himself from those he cared for, everyone but one. **It** liked her, so she was safe.** It** liked to encourage **its** "_king"_ to hold the _princess_. Orihime was the one person **it** let him love, let him care for. **It** teased him when she looked over, forcefully moved his hand to hold hers when he was too nervous to even try. **It **even scoffed at him and called him pathetic when **it** did that.

Thing was, Orihime had noticed. He could see it, feel it , almost smell it. He normally wouldn't be able to tell, but **it **did. And as a result so could he. And **it** would cause a sensation in his other hand, like **it **was holding his hand too, proving that he was nothing more than **its** pawn. He could feel **its** breath on his neck, a constant reminder that it was watching him. Watching him and watching her. **Its** gaze was fiery and intense, imperious and captivating. He wanted to just lie down and let that piercing stare raze his thoughts and warp his mind. He felt warm air ghost across his ears in a mocking caress of such consuming intimacy, callous and beguiling, and even more corruptive. Its influence shone in his once warm cinnamon eyes, now eerily dyed a twisted, violent amber as its voice beckoned to him as he lie in bed. He tried not to let it, but sleep found him, and with sleep came **its** mocking face reflected back at him from the glass windows of millions of unchanging skycrapers. Biting cold wind lashed at him, and frigid rain pelted him constantly. Frozen white hands held his face. Ominous gold and ebony glared into his very core, turning his insides out with a mere glance. His heart skipped in time with a morbid beat, a dark dance of fear and dread, yet within it was the slightest hint of eagerness and glee. Because deep down he'd already accepted the hollow's commanding presence as inescapable. **Its **eyes continued roaming him, looking for any slight failure or wrongdoing **it** could chide him for. Much to Ichigo's shame, he knew that he'd resent himself for displeasing **it.** He'd do his bast to right whatever wrong he'd committed in a desperate attempt to please **it. **He waited for either condemnation, or possible rewarding. Finally, **its** eyes were through with their search, and to the teens relief, the hands that held his chin merely pulled him forward, and slid to his back. He felt the brush of lips against his left ear.

"_**Mine." **_came **its** only response to his appearance. **Its **nails crushing and scratching his shoulders, eliciting pained groaning from the orange haired teen, who didn't seem discouraged or gloomy. His scowling lips broke into an enthusiastic grimace. _Yes, yes he was __**its**__. Only __**its,**__ entirely __**its. **_**It **released him and he fell to his knees.

"I am yours, king." He said it with conviction. He truly believed that he belonged to the other. White lips widened in their constantly smirking glory. He looked up at the true "king" submissively.

_**"Good boy, Ichigo-"**_ **It** paused to ruffle his hair, _**"give yourself to me." **_**It** squatted down beside him, _**"And kill her. Don't let a single shred of her worthless reishi escape from us." **_Sharp golden eyes locked with hazy obscure orbs that flicked between cold yellow and indifferent brown.

"Yes, master."

The next morning, Rukia's spiritual energy fluctuated dangerously low. Ishida, Urahara, and Renji all arrived at the scene to discover her mutilated corpse fading, and Ichigo standing, ebony bankai blade glowing with sadistic light, torn cloak and tattooed hands scattered about it like harbingers of death. His vermillion tufts were matted with dark ruby, and in the sunlight glistened with the devastating beauty of an open flame that framed the hard surface of the bone-white mask that crawled along his face, eyes glowing bright acidic yellow from behind the accursed object. One tanned hand was entangled tightly with a slender, pale shadow of a hand. Light peach flesh framing a petite structure, windowed by a flowing stream of pale auburn. Her gentle face was crowned with tiara of poisonous purple flowers that reflected in the soft color of her kind eyes. Her face was set with frightful determination. She didn't care what they thought, she would stand by Ichigo for as long as she could. Sure she was scared, but she'd been scared before. She'd grown, matured, and learned more in the past few years. All of the strength she'd acquired was for him. Because she knew it hurt him if she let herself feel pain. She felt the same for him, and because of that, she would stay at his side, even when he lost himself. Because love was the only thing strong enough to keep them both as sane as was possible, and they would both hold on to it for as long as they could.


End file.
